


PesterChums

by Hidden_Pineapple



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama, Kinda, M/M, some romance I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11970915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidden_Pineapple/pseuds/Hidden_Pineapple
Summary: ‘Need somewhere to dwell? Contact carcinoGeneticist on PesterChum.’ You pull the poster down, tearing it off the staple, and decide that you’re gonna do just that.The story of Dave starting college, and his quest for a bed to sleep in.





	PesterChums

Your name is Dave Strider, and you just started college with your best friend. You have nowhere to live, and are currently at the message board in the foyer of the main building on campus, leafing through all the posters. Most of them are very boring-looking and uninteresting, but after a moment of ironically intense glancing, there is one that catches your eye. It’s a dark gray sheet with white writing, stating next to nothing – not the size, not the amount of rent, not the address, not their name, and no phone number. The only thing it says, is: ‘Need somewhere to dwell? Contact carcinoGeneticist on PesterChum.’ You pull the poster down, tearing it off the staple, and decide that you’re gonna do just that.

You log into PesterChum, using your usual chumhandle, turntechGodhead, and type up a quick text.

TG: I need somewhere to live

It takes a short moment before they answer.

CG: If it is dwellings you seek, then you’ve come to the right place.

You’re a little amused by the phrasing, and decide to play along.

TG: dwellings are my no.1 favorite thing

TG: please elaborate about said dwelling

CG: The dwelling is approximately 15 minutes away from campus calculated with medium sized feet as the means of transportation, and you would have to share with two other people.

TG: that sounds perfect, tbh

CG: Excellent. With three people in total, the rent and electrical fee will be split evenly, and should average at around $400 per month.

TG: great, is the second room free as well?

You treat them to one of your very rare question marks. For some reason, you feel like they deserve it, even though they haven’t really done anything yet, except be moderately cool.

CG: The contract for the secondary bedroom has already been signed and finalized, unfortunately. Is that an issue?

That is an issue. Egbert is looking for an apartment, too, and you were sort of planning to move in together now that you’re starting college.

TG: maybe, not sure yet

CG: OK, just let me know what you find out.

You’re morally conflicted. You want to live with your best friend through the last decade or so, but you also just want somewhere to live, and all this in a very ironic manner.

You check in with the person the next day to ask if you could have a little more time, only to be told that the room has already been rented out. You feel a little disappointed at this, but also relieved, even though you would never admit that to anyone. The person you’re talking to seems to take pity on you in your rejected state, and somehow you end up talking to them throughout the day.

Talking that day turns into talking the next day, which turns into talking every day. You know next to nothing about this person, but you find yourself looking forward to every time your phone vibrates in your pocket. They keep saying pretty funny stuff, and you get to be pretty darn ironic in your one-upmanship.

You keep searching for apartments. Your new friend helps you out, but it becomes sort of weird when you say you’re strictly looking at apartments with room for two. You inform them that it’s for your childhood friend, and they react even more funny. You begin to realize that you are sort of flirting with each other. In an entirely non-ironic way. It’s new to you, but not unpleasant.

You eventually find an apartment. You’re sick of sleeping on Lalonde’s couch, listening to her and Maryam get it on every night, so this is great news. Only, when you inform Egbert of this, he gets all hot and bothered. Appears he already moved in somewhere, without telling you. You’re not sure how to react to this, but bravely brush it off as only you know how. Coolkids don’t get bothered by their best friends making huge life changes slightly related to you without letting you know.

You complain to your new friend about this. They have all the sympathy in the world, and apparently agree that your best friend is kind of a douche at times. You argument that he’s not a douche, just blissfully unaware of the way his actions affect those around him.

Egbert takes you to his new apartment. There’s a blind girl called Terezi with an uncanny sense for knowing just where to smack you so it hurts with her white cane, who according to Egbert is mostly out and about with her friend Vriska, and one other guy living there with him, a kind of emo-looking guy who sounds really angry, named Karkat, who apparently owns the apartment. You think Karkat’s a really stupid name, and as the kind soul that you are, you let him in on this. His face turns red and he starts yelling at you. You find this inappropriately amusing.

You start hanging out with Egbert and Karkat, just so you can poke at Karkat till he erupts. It becomes your new hobby, which you immensely enjoy, and try to do as often as at all possible. You don’t quite see how Egbert is able to live with this guy considering how much Egbert prefers to avoid confrontation, but on the other hand it is a miracle that Karkat can live with Egbert while being so easily annoyed, with Egbert being pretty much the most annoying person ever. You figure it has to be some sort of strange symbiosis heavily dependent on Egbert’s non-existent awareness of all things surrounding him. He’s probably not even noticed how Karkat seems to have a crush on him. Dammit, you just know you’re going to have to be the one to inform Egbert of his suitor, otherwise poor Karkat is going to go forever without any sort of acknowledgement. Not that he’s gonna get anywhere, with Egbert having adamantly claimed for the last 8 years that he’s “not a homosexual”. But of course, Karkat doesn’t know that, and it’s gonna be way more fun to watch him find out the hard way.

 

While trying to intermediate feelings of affection between Egbert and Karkat, you keep talking to your pestering chum. They told you about one specific person who was causing them a lot of trouble; apparently a psychotic ex obsessed with clowns. No matter how you consider this, it sounds like the scariest person ever. You wish your friend the best of luck and advise them to move from their building and go into protected witness custody, but unfortunately Clown Hannibal has not committed any provable crime so far. You just hope their first crime isn’t towards your chum, because classes are boring as fuck, and Egbert is busy being wooed by Karkat, and Lalonde’s busy getting down with Kanaya, and pestering is pretty much the only fun thing in your life right now. Even dropping sick beats and drawing shitty web comics don’t entertain you much these days. You’re starting to worry a little bit that you might be depressed. Then you remember that coolkids don’t get depressed, and remove the thought from your overly intelligent brain.

 

During the next few weeks, you continue to spend time with Egbert and Karkat, even though you think you’re gonna be the third wheel in not too long. Egbert is still not getting it, but you have a feeling that Karkat’s gonna make a move soon. He seems antsy all the time. You also realize that Karkat has a weird obsession with shitty rom-coms, and is even more offended when you criticize them, than when you criticize his person. That of course makes you slam each and every film with every detail of shit you can think of, and movie night quickly becomes your favorite. Karkat, when worked up enough, will literally see red and pounce you, trying to pin you down, but -- being rather short and stubby -- not really succeeding all that well, but it makes for a fun wrestling match nonetheless. At other times, Egbert will choose the film, and go on at length about why, and all the different ways how, Nicolas Cage is the greatest specimen of man ever to walk the Earth. You tend to just tune out, as you have already seen these films at least 20 times each and more, and pretty much know everything Egbert is spouting by heart. At those times you generally retreat to pestering your chum, who apparently has gotten rid of their Red-Nosed pursuer. They rarely tell you about anything regarding their person, and you tend to stick to random stuff that needs to be appreciated as the potential entertainment and art that it is. You have them read your web comic, and you’ve been acquainted with some of their quality fan art. Apparently they are considering to do fan art for your web comic, and you cannot believe how warm and fuzzy that makes you feel inside. You don’t express that though, because that’s just a bit too uncool, but you are grateful and proud nonetheless.

 

Terezi remains unseen most of the time, but you’ve met her once or twice, as well as her girlfriend. Her girlfriend is in a few of your classes, and even though she comes off as a vindictive bitch at most times, she’s really smart, and great when you’re in a pinch. Other than her you’ve found a couple of other friends through classes. You’re still not quite sure what to do about the whole living-at-Lalonde’s situation, because regardless of how welcoming and encouraging Rose is being, you don’t sleep particularly well. On top of that you know Rose is having her cousin over in not too long, making the apartment one dude too many. You cannot believe you are complaining about living together with three gorgeous young women, in their prime. It’s basically a harem, and a lot of the guys you know would kill to be in your position, but it’s really too much of a bother. You’re considering to ask Egbert to stay at his place, because honestly it’s his fault you’re even in this mess, and you feel like he owes you that.

 

Egbert, of course, does not protest. Terezi doesn’t give a damn, because she’s never there anyway. Karkat on the other hand, is being a stubborn little bitch, hinting that you should pay rent if you’re gonna live there too. You listen to him and Egbert bicker a little back and forth, until you just pull out a 100 dollar bill and hand it to him, asking how long that’s gonna last you. Karkat has the decency to look bothered, blushing slightly and shifting his gaze to the side, mumbling something intangible. You decide it’s probably okay, and move in on the couch.

 

The first night you’re there, you sleep pretty darn good. There are no midnight sex noises to keep you up and creeped out, and generally it’s quiet. Sure, Egbert’s snoring is like a wind organ, but that is nothing new to you. In the morning when the sun comes peeking through the window though, you realize it’s too bright to sleep any longer, and just relax on the couch with your shades on the last hour before people start getting up. Only, Karkat is apparently an early riser, because you can hear his door creak slightly as he sneaks out, probably being silent so he won’t wake you. You pretend to be asleep, glancing carefully through your deceptive sunglasses, and hear him snort as he discovers you lying on the couch with them on. You see him shake his head, outlined against the light coming through the window, a slight amused smile on his face. You realize that this is probably the first time ever you’ve seen the poor bastard smile. Either he’s almost as much of a coolkid as you (yeah right), or his life is just really sad. You’re pretty certain it’s the last one. Then again, he doesn’t think anyone can see him right now, so not smiling might just be a part of his image. You decide to use it against him at the first opportunity.

You hear him rummaging through a kitchen cabinet now, and ripping open some sort of packet. He passes by the couch again, and you realize he’s eating Oreos. He disappears into the bathroom, and the shower starts running. For the next 20 minutes you contemplate how much you would really like an Oreo right now. Then the bathroom door is opened, steam pours out the door frame, and Karkat –

Wow. You were not expecting that. Karkat is walking back to his room with nothing but a towel around his waist. And damn. That guy looks so scrawny, but man, there’s no way he doesn’t go to the gym. Because baby jegus, dude’s ripped.

He’s still eating Oreos. You decide to mess with him, and just as he’s passing you by, completely ignoring you, you say: 

“Hey, give me one of those.”

Karkat literally jumps 3 feet up in the air, picture perfect expression of jolted surprise. You can just see it on the look on his face, that he’s about to start yelling at you.

“Shush, Egbert’s still sleeping.”

Karkat blinks several times, before clearly gathering his wits, responding with a hiss: “Yeah, dumbass, I can hear that. Seriously, what the fuck. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No, I would never,” you respond, ironically feigning indignation.

Karkat’s jaw is working. He’s clearly trying to decide how to respond to the situation and also make sure he’s cursing and scolding enough. “Have you ever considered taking off the glasses? I would really fucking appreciate being able to tell if you’re fucking awake or not.”

“Sorry pal, you’re just gonna have to deal with it. Don’t cramp my style.”

Karkat sighs audibly, visibly relaxing again after the adrenaline rush. “You have issues.”

“Probably. No way of growing up with my bro and not coming out somehow permanently damaged. So, how about that cookie?”

Karkat looks down at his hand, where he has utterly smushed the last Oreo he was holding. He walks over to the table, and scrapes the crumbs and the cream off. “Yeah, sure, enjoy, Shitface McSpectacles. Whatever.” Then he turns on his heel, and stomps into his room, shutting the door behind him. You can hear him lock it. Trying not to chuckle, you scoop up the crumbs and start shoving it into your mouth. Kind of mushy, having sat in the bathroom for 20 minutes while Karkat showered, but still tasting Oreos. You can sort of get used to living at Casa de Krankbert.

 

Classes suck, but that’s kind of the way school works. You eventually fall for the temptation of pestering while in class, and your chum seems more than happy to answer. Apparently your friend is studying biology, which you think is sorta cool because Egbert’s studying the same thing, and maybe they know each other. Also your chum has told you that they dream about going to med school, but are apparently too freaked out at the sight of blood to even consider it. You tell them that they should do what they dream to do, and rather worry about overcoming that stuff later. You also tell them that you realize it isn’t really that easy, not when you’re actually in the position of having to overcome your fears, and you totally understand how they decided to do biology instead, and that biology is pretty rad. You don’t even know what you’re studying, you’re mostly just taking classes until you find something that interests you, and you think your chum is way ahead in every aspect. A minute after sending this, you realize that you were being totally uncool. You consider making a wild claim Lalonde took your phone and decided to play psychologist, but at the same time you realize that maybe it’s not all that important to be cool at all times. Maybe, once in a while, it’s more important to be a supportive friend.

 

You think you’re a pretty smart guy. At the very least, you’re not stupid. But for some reason, you fail your first test. You can’t really understand how it happened, because it honestly wasn’t that hard of a test, but you were really unlucky about what they chose to ask about. This is the first time you’ve done bad enough to fail at anything. Let it be said, the lecturer set pretty damn high demands for passing, and maybe if she didn’t understand your rad drawings and cool comments, that might pull down your score. Then again, that’s on her and not on you, and you feel it’s pretty damn unfair that you fail your test just because she can’t appreciate top notch art and finer forms of communication. And maybe it was because there was a thing or two you just couldn’t remember while you were taking the test. Sick of contemplating the reasons of your most recent failure, you get completely hammered at some bar with Lalonde, and then stagger your way back to Casa de Krankbert, finding Egbert alone in the living room watching some movie.

“Hey Egbert,” you say, even though it mostly comes out as “mhbrt”.

“Hi, Dave! What’s up?”

You fall back into the couch next to him, and decide to be honest. “Failed my test.”

“Aw man, shucks. What went wrong?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You tilt your head back, and realize that right now, you mostly just want to sleep. “How long is left of the movie?”

“Um, about two hours.”

Wow. Great. Two hours of Egbert chilling on your bed with the TV on.

“Uh, Dave.”

“Ngh.”

“You could just sleep in Karkat’s bed.”

You perk up. “Karkat’s bed? As in…Crabkat’s nest?”

“Um, yeah, I guess you could say it like that. He’s staying over with a friend tonight, so he wouldn’t even know.”

“Ah, but it’s no fun if he doesn’t know. How’s he gonna get angry?” You smirk.

“Dave, you’re being kinda weird right now.”

You can see Egbert’s uncomfortable, even though you’re not entirely sure why. Egbert’s a pretty strange dude though, and you don’t really think any further of it. “I’m drunk, what do you expect.”

“I think you should go lie down,” Egbert’s saying hesitantly.

“Yeah. That sounds really good right now.”

You stumble into Krankat’s bedroom, grateful for the darkness it encases you in, and the silence that falls as soon as you shut the door. You strip down to your boxers, and tumble into bed, hardly even registering the foreign yet somewhat familiar smell before you fall asleep.

You barely register something nudging you, before your ears start to hurt.

“WHAT THE FLYING FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will the noise to disappear, and grumble confusedly. “Wha –“

“GET THE FUCK OUT! OUT!!”

You’re still squeezing your eyes shut, because everything hurts. It’s dark, your feet are tangled up in bed sheets, and your head is pounding. On top of that, there’s the ear-deafening roars coming from somewhere above you.

Then you feel nails scratching your back as hands fumble angrily around, eventually getting grip around your arm, dragging you out of the bed. You fall ungraciously to the floor, still having no fucking idea what the hell is going on, and you’re clutching your head in one hand, trying to make the stabbing pain subside, and trying to support yourself into a sitting position against the bed with the other.

“I SAID GET OUT!!”

The sheets are pulled away from you, and the cold jostles you just enough to register that you need to move. You drag yourself up, still confused, get a jumble of clothes shoved to your chest, and then you’re being pushed out of the door.

“You weird fuck,” someone hisses at you, and then the door slams in your face.

You stand there for about 15 seconds before you realize that you’re alone in the living room, wearing only your boxers, and have the hangover of a lifetime. You sigh, then slouch over to the couch, and lie down to go back to sleep. You vaguely notice pieces of popcorn sticking into your side, but at this point you just don’t care. You don’t bother with the sheets you’ve been borrowed, and just pull the blanket that’s always on the couch over you instead. At the back of your head, as you’re just about to fall asleep, you’re aware that you should be feeling some sort of guilt, shame or sense of doom right now, but you subconsciously conclude that it will have to wait until tomorrow.

Daylight comes way too soon. As soon as the sun hits through the slits in the blinds, you realize that you don’t have your sunglasses. You pull the blanket over your head and try to sleep, but it just isn’t working. Your eyes sting, you smell terrible, and your head feels like it’s gonna split in two at any moment. You could have avoided a lot of the pain with your trusty shades, but dumb as you were, you left them in Vantas’s room, and there’s no way you’re going in there again any time soon.

You find it interesting that no matter how horribly your brother had ironically kicked your ass over the years, you never felt this bad. Imagining the smutty puppets he used to put up everywhere to “keep an eye on” you, you get a weird boner, and decide to go take a cold shower, because that’s not okay, no matter how fucked up and hungover you are. Important big-ass reality check time, right there. 

 

~∼~

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and your day so far has officially sucked. Gamzee called again. He won’t stop pestering you, even though you don’t respond. You decided to go see Sollux today and ask if he had any advice, because as the only other person on the planet, he knows nearly as much about relationship stuff as you do. He’s kind of a really cool guy, and also kind of good-looking, even though you wouldn’t tell him. At the back of your mind you have a hope that maybe that will evolve into something, because he’d probably know how to handle being a decent human being to the person he’s involved with, unlike your every other experience so far. But then again, you tend to have terrible taste, so if you like him, then at heart he’s probably a dick, a psycho, or both. Anyway, you’re gonna meet him tonight and stay over, and maybe that excites you a little more than it should, but so what.

Classes today were the most boring classes you’ve had so far in your life, and that’s saying something. Your patience is wearing thin, and when you get back home to drop off your school stuff, you’re glad to see that stupid Strider is not here. Egbert is, but he’s playing some video game, humming to the tune as he’s flushing some street with an apparatus installed on his back. Oh, wait, he’s the fat plumber. You kind of enjoy watching him play that game. You quite like the green animal he sometimes utilizes for transport. You also really like using words that don’t get enough attention from the rest of the general English speaking population.

“Hi, Karkat!” Egbert says cheerily from the couch.

“Hi. Bye.” You’re not in the mood for talking, so you just head straight for your room to get your bag.

“Where are you going?” Egbert’s still disgustingly chipper.

“Staying over at a friend’s.”

“Oh, cool. Have a good time!”

Egbert’s waving to you as you shut the door behind you. Wow, are you glad you’re out of there. Happy people sure can be annoying when you’re having a shit day.

You and Sollux have a pretty great night, watching a good rom-com, and ordering in some pizza. You feel closer to him than you usually do, your skin tingling from the body heat you can sense radiate off him sitting next to you. You’re really enjoying this; being really overly aware of someone else, and enjoying every moment you get to spend in their presence. That is, until you get to the part you’ve been anxiously waiting to get the formalities out of the way for, which is the talking part. You love talking to Sollux, because he’s a darn good listener, and gives pretty great advice. You’re just about to start out explaining the stuff about Gamzee, when Sollux beats you to it.

“Karkat, I’ve been dying to tell you. I met someone.”

Your stomach drops involuntarily. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Aradia. She’s the most beautiful, intelligent and funny person ever, and I think I love her.”

You feel a sting of jealousy that you kind of want to hit yourself for feeling, but keep a straight face. “Really?”

“I can’t tell you how much I miss her right now; I just want to spend every waking moment with her. Fuck school, fuck part-time jobs, fuck _video games –_ I just, right now, I regret every night of my life I sat inside on my computer, rather than being out with her. You have no idea, Karkat. This, surely this has to be love. I always thought I knew so much, but now I know, I hardly knew anything. I could take on the world if that was what was needed to be with her.”

“Wow. That sounds amazing, Sollux. But how long have you known this girl?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a few months? I only recently started really hanging out with her, though.”

“Don’t you think maybe you’re moving a little fast?” You know you sound hesitant, but you hope your voice doesn’t betray disappointment.

“Pfft, who cares. It feels great, and really, I think that’s all that matters. I mean, if it feels this great, I don’t think it could be so bad. Even if maybe it’s a little fast, what does that matter anyway?”

You don’t answer. Sollux isn’t really expecting you to, and continues to elaborate on the miracle of a revelation that is Aradia. At some point you space out, realizing that you’re not going to be able to get a word in sideways, and in no way have a chance at steering the conversation over to your emotional life, so you resort to pestering your chum. Only, your chum must be busy, because they’re not responding. You realize that your chum could also be sleeping, as it is 3 in the morning. For every minute you listen to Sollux rant, you become more and more fed up. Sollux’s slight lisp is certainly not helping right now. After the hellish fucktard of a day you’ve had so far, your patience really is not made for this kind of trial. You haven’t even met the girl, and you already despise her, solely based on the fact that you have to hear about her every perfect fucking facial feature. You also realize at some point that you and Sollux are never going to happen. This realization is a combination of seeing how caught up he is right now, and also seeing how fucked up he becomes when he’s got a crush. God, you would not want that creepy fuck running after you with salivation running down the sides of his mouth.

You decide to excuse yourself, blatantly lying that Egbert had some sort of accident where he fucked up your apartment, and that you need to go help him fix it. You apologize for not staying the night as planned, and tell Sollux that you’re really glad he found this Aradia, and that you hope you can talk more about it later (you really don’t). He wishes you good luck with the disaster back home, and you can finally escape the dreaded lair of mindless praise and swooning.

You trudge your way back home, way too sick of everything. At this very moment, your life utterly, completely, sucks. You lock yourself in, leave the lights off so you won’t wake up that canine defecation, Strider, and go into your room. You wade through pieces of clothing on the floor, discarding your own as you go, and think that you need to clean your room soon. Right now, you can’t wait to just sink into your bed, cover yourself in your blanket, and go into hibernation until life ceases to make you want to stab yourself. Only you can’t, because as soon as you lie down in bed, you collide with something soft, unyielding, warm and grunting. You shoot out of bed like an arrow, flick on the bedside lamp, and stare down at a half-naked Strider sprawled in your bed, drooling on your pillow. You feel rage build up in you like the steam pressure in a geyser, at first too shocked and outraged to do anything but gape at the offending intruder, but at last, you erupt. 

“WHAT THE FLYING FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?!”

You’re practically seeing red. Strider doesn’t move, just grunts.

“GET THE FUCK OUT! OUT!!”

You can’t believe that fucktard has the audacity to sleep in your bed, like it was some sort of hotel he had moved into. Enraged, you grasp for something to hold on to, find an arm, and unceremoniously drag him out of bed. He dumps onto the floor, still tangled up in your duvet.

“I SAID GET OUT!!”

You tear the duvet off of him, toss it back into bed, and finally he moves. You gather his belongings, that you only now in the light see aren’t your own clothes on the floor, and hand it over to him, while pushing him to the door. You get him past the doorstep, and glare at him, filled with disgust. 

“You weird fuck,” you spit at him, struggling to control yourself enough to not punch him right in his stupid face. Then you slam the door shut.

As silence ensues, you slide down to sit with your back to the door, waiting for the rush to subside. You don’t hear anything from the other side of the door, and wonder briefly if he’s just standing there like an idiot. Then you decide he’s too dumb for you to waste your brain activity on, and decide to get up and continue with your plan to hibernate. You go back to bed, angrily toss the duvet until it falls the way you like it, fluff your pillow, and turn off the lamp. When you lie down, you realize that Strider’s left his stupid pheromones behind, because your bed smells all weird and sour. Of course he’d smell bad. He’s an uncultivated animal. There’s a hint of alcohol in there, which you despise. You sit up and smack the pillow down on the other side, and some of the smell disappears. You pull the duvet tight around your neck, and close your eyes. You feel empty. As long as you were angry, you knew what to do. There was a fire in you, and you didn’t have to think about how much everything sucks. Now, alone and in peace, the only thing you can think of, is how everything seems to be falling apart, and you kind of want to cry. You feel terribly alone, and have a nagging hunch that you’re gonna be that way forever. You feel tears sting at your eyes, and turn to bury your face in the pillow. You inhale through the fabric, distinctly smelling the Strider-saliva. Ignoring it, you try to push everything out of your mind, spectacularly failing, like you usually do, and fall into a restless sleep.

 

Morning is horrid, and you wish you liked ground black bean brew. You’re tempted to try it anyway, even though you know you hate the flavor, just for the much renown effects. You ponder that maybe drinking some Coca-Cola will do you the same good. Finally sitting up in bed, you look at the clock on your bedside table, only to find that you can’t see it, because there is a pair of silly sunglasses in the way. You pick them up, and consider for a brief moment to break them, just to get back at the idiot who left them there. Then you remember that they were a gift from John, and you know it’d hurt his feelings too if you broke them, so you don’t. With a little more force than necessary, you put them back on your nightstand. About half a second later, you realize that this means Strider is sunglass-less. Finally looking at the clock, you see it’s after noon – which means you really should be in class. It also means John’s already  _ in _ class, and if you know Strider right, he wouldn’t have left the house without his precious eye contact deflectors. In conclusion to all of this, you have a shade-less Strider all to yourself, with a lot of vengeance to exert.

You get up, giddier than you’d expect, and toss on your crumpled clothes from yesterday. In the living room, you find Strider watching TV, with all the blinds closed, and the screen brightness turned way down. After a trip to the fridge for some Coca-Cola that doesn’t even belong to you, you go over to the couch and sit down, back towards the armrest, staring right at Dave the Dumbass.

“You’re drinking my coke,” he says without looking at you.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“You’re paying for that,” he responds, still not looking at you.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Nope.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, don’t think so.”

“I do.”

“This conversation is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“At least I have the brain capacity to realize when I’m intruding on someone else’s personal space, not to mention their belongings.”

“You mean like how you’re drinking my coke?”

“I  _ realize _ that I’m drinking your coke. I just don’t care.”

“Well, maybe I realized I was sleeping in your bed, and just didn’t care.”

You don’t know how to answer that. You feel your cheeks warming up, and you can’t quite decide if you’re angry or embarrassed.

“Well, that shut you up.”

Strider’s finally looking at you, with a smug grin plastered across his face. You decide you’re definitely angry. You also realize that Strider has red eyes, which you did not expect. His pupils are unusually dilated, and you wonder if maybe he has the lights turned down for a reason, and not just because he’s a shut-in weirdo. Maybe the sunglasses serve a function, other than looking cool.

“Your eyes are red,” you state intelligently, because you can’t really think of a better way to address the fact.

“Yeah, no shit.” You can just barely see the edges of his mouth turn a slight bit up, before he turns back to the TV.

You go back to drinking your Coca-Cola, and struggle to decide what to do with this new info. To be honest, having seen him without the sunglasses, kind of changes your entire mental image of the guy. His face looks totally different, in a really weird way. Thinking about it is kind of making you uncomfortable, and you decide you’d rather go have the last of your lectures than sit here in awkward silence with demon-eyes. You try to chug the rest of the Coca-Cola, but you don’t really succeed, so you just leave the rest on the table and get up to go get ready.

“Hey, Karkat,” Dave is talking to you, and he’s sounding kind of funny. You turn around and look at him. He won’t look you in the eyes, keeping his gaze trained somewhere around your left shoe.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t thinking. I just had a really crappy day, that’s all, and I’m sorry I let that affect you.”

You’re baffled. He sounds sincere enough, you just can’t really comprehend the fact that Strider just  _ apologized  _ to you. Like he cared. And meant it. And was actually sorry.

“Uh, yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t mean to say that. You want him to worry about it, a lot. You want him to owe you, because he does, because he _ slept in your bed _ , but whoa, hey, backtrack, you really don’t want to think about that right now.

“Thanks, man. I knew you’d understand.” He turns back to the TV.

You’re still standing there, a big furrow between your brows, before you remember that you’re really not supposed to be just standing around, so you get moving. Shaking your head in disbelief, you get ready a bit faster than normal, and head out the door. Without thinking, and immediately regretting, you throw out “bye,” on you way out of the door.

“Bye,” you get in return from the couch.

Closing the door, you stand at the top of the stairs and take two seconds to facepalm your stupid think-pan for being so retarded. What even was that. Then you get over yourself, and go to school. 

 

~∼~

 

After Karkat leaves, you start to think that he couldn’t possibly mind it too much if you went back into his room and picked up your shades. Surely, he wouldn’t mind. Who are you trying to fool, this is Crabkat you’re talking about. Of course he’d mind. If he were there, he’d probably throw a damn tantrum right about now, about your apparent chronic lack of respect for personal space. But you are Dave Strider, so you promptly ignore all this insight into Karkat’s person, and simply go in anyway.

Your shades are on the nightstand, probably where you absent-mindedly left them last night. You go and pick them up, and then stand undecidedly for a few seconds, contemplating whether to snoop or not. Stick-up-his-ass would probably beat you senseless, but the idea in and on its own is just too hilarious, so you open the top drawer of his nightstand. There’s tons of stuff in it. Looks to be some sort of messy drawer, and you sift through it with a scarce amount of interest. Nothing exciting. You do the same to the drawer underneath it, but so far Karkat is as boring as he appears. You lie back on the bed. Wow, it’s soft. You didn’t notice that in your drunken haze yesterday.

It is just so tempting. You’ve been sleeping on couches for the last few weeks; a full night’s sleep in an actual bed would do wonders for your aching back and shoulders. Hesitating for just a moment, you finally just give in, because you have not slept more than 3 hours in the last day, because fucking daylight keeps waking you up. To begin with you didn’t plan to sleep, but your body is heavy as a brick, and the bed is so comfortable. You kick off your shoes, peel off you pants, and wriggle out of your shirt. You throw your shoes one after the other at the half-open door, and with large amount of  ~~luck~~ skill, it just barely closes with the last throw. You switch off the light, and bury your face in the pillow.

You wake up to Karkat screaming his lungs out in your face, and exit his room with a ringing noise in your ears. It doesn’t fade straight away, not even when Karkat’s angry yelling and stomping from behind his locked door fades away. You sit on the couch next to Egbert, who is looking terrified. You decide to pester your chum.

TG: I’m having the worst day rn

CG: Yeah? I’ll give you a prize if you can top mine.

TG: I’ve slept 6 hours today, in 3 different sessions, half of those on a couch covered in popcorn, and two of them being interrupted by screaming and being thrown out of bed

TG: also I don’t have a bed

TG: and just to top it off, I failed my test yesterday and got super drunk, so I have a hangover as well

It takes a while before your chum answers. You think that maybe they’re busy, but then your screen blinks.

CG: OK, you win.

You smile where you’re sitting on the couch, and Egbert looks at you weird.

TG: what’s my prize

CG: What?

TG: you said if I top your day I win a prize

Once again, it takes quite a long while before they answer.

CG: I haven’t decided yet. Ask me again later.

TG: ok

TG: so how was your day

CG: Nothing compared to yours, apparently. Sorry about your test, by the way.

TG: don’t be

TG: not your fault

CG: No, but I still feel sympathy for you. That sucks.

TG: it is what it is

TG: but seriously, what happened today?

CG: I just found out that one of my best friends turns into a slobbering animal when he has a crush.

TG: really? he’s got it bad?

CG: Oh yeah, so bad, like you can’t even imagine. I kind of hate him now. Sucks, because I don’t have that many friends right now.

TG: well, you have me B-)

CG: …

TG: hey, what’s that supposed to mean???

CG: …nothing

CG: I’m really…grateful to have you

TG: fuck you

CG: Hey, no need to get ugly!

TG: you’re ugly

CG: You don’t know that

TG: I can sense it

CG: My ass

TG: I’d like to find out, though

Again, it takes quite a long time before the answer ticks in. They’ve seen your message, so either they got distracted by real life stuff, or they’re thinking real long and hard about their answer.

CG: Maybe one day you will

You smirk at the thought.

TG: I think I kind of need that in my life right now

TG: some of that sweet carcinoGeneticist

Karkat comes out of his room, looking at you funny. You’re a little disappointed, because you’d expected him to look angrier. At the same time, you’re a little relieved, because it just occurred to you that if he was  _ really _ angry, he might start locking his door when he leaves, and you really don’t want that, because you’re beginning to suspect that sleeping in Karkat’s bed when he’s out is going to become a regular habit of yours.

But he doesn’t yell, doesn’t shout, doesn’t even flip you his favorite bird. He just goes in the kitchen, gets some food, and returns to his room, doing nothing more than throwing you sideways glances, as if you might spout a second head at any time. You shrug it off, and continue pestering your chum. They are apparently still having juggalo problems, and you have all the sympathy in the world, even though you don’t say the entire extent of it out loud.

Still sick of sleeping on the couch, you start taking advantage of Karkat’s long hours of classes, for stealing some much needed actual bedtime. You feel pretty good about yourself, because you think you’re pretty darn good at putting things back the way they were, and Karkat hasn’t thrown a fit yet, so you’re fairly confident he hasn’t noticed anything, yet. Sleeping inside an actual room with an actual door, involuntary arousal during sleep is happening again. The public nature of the couch kind of kept it at bay, and maybe you feel kinda bad about going to boner town while sleeping in Karkat’s bed when he doesn’t know about it, but hey, you’re only human.

Movie night is still going strong, and the three of you have now covered an impressively large repertoire of films. You keep slamming Karkat’s beloved shitty rom-coms, and it’s still as much fun as ever. However, Karkat’s level of rage, his loudness and his amount of cursing has been declining lately; maybe the prolonged stress of getting all the shit he loves slammed on a regular basis is getting to him. You relish in the thought. At the same time, it sort of makes teasing him a lot less amusing. You live for this shit. Well, this and pestering your chum. It’s pretty much the highlight of your day, every day. You also really can’t deny the nature of flirtation that is going on between the two of you; in precise accordance to your own nature, you are spouting innuendo like it’s going out of style; only difference is, you’re not really doing it ironically like you usually do with Egbert and whoever. Your pesterchum is kind of cool, and even though you have no idea what they look like, you kind of have a feeling that they’re hot.

You guess maybe you’re starting to feel like yourself again.

 

~∼~

 

You guess maybe you’re starting to lose your mind.

It’s Strider. It was always Strider. turntechGodhead equals goddamn Dave Strider. Which makes no sense, because your pesterchum is so cool, and Strider is so stupid. You can’t even. You’ve been flirting with each other. Which is just so entirely WRONG when you know it’s Strider. You considered telling him, when you realized. However, as you started pestering with him, you realized how much you appreciate your conversations. If you just ignore the whole Strider-alias-side plot thing, you still very much need the emotional support and entertainment you get from your pesterchum, who is pretty much your only friend at this moment. You used to be pretty close with Terezi, but she’s dropped completely off the surface of the Terran planet after finding Vriska. You are happy for her, of course, but you also sort of miss her.

You try to treat both turntechGodhead and Dave Strider the way you have used to, but it’s not working very well. Your conversations on PesterChum are getting more serious, not to mention that your chum is getting considerably more chummy. Also, you can’t help but realize that a lot of Dave’s behavior can be interpreted as pretty flirtatious, if you’re being a little optimistic. Now, when he’s wrestling you, your cheeks are turning red for other reasons than anger. You’ve also come to realize that Dave has made it a habit to sleep in your bed whenever you’re out, and he seems to think that you don’t know anything about it. If you’re being perfectly honest, you kind of like it. But only a little. It makes you feel less alone, somehow. You also, very secretly, kind of wish he’d come sleep in your bed while you were also in it. But you’ll never admit to that. Ever.

 

~∼~

 

Karkat has completely stopped getting upset with you. It frustrates you to no end. One of your favorite things, and he just goes ahead and takes it away from you. Is there any chance Karkat is not as dense as he seems? Is he a genius, like you? Is this a complex mind game, to annoy you the way you annoy him? What is going on?

You disregard this in its entirety, and decide to focus on what is working great in your life now. You finally found a place to stay. Couch surfing has been an experience, but even coolkids get sick of not having their own space. The horrible limbo that is chronic lack of privacy, is finally coming to an end. Not paying rent has been amazing, but it’s a tradeoff you’re willing to make.

You inform Egbert as soon as you see him. He’s on your former bed-space, watching  _ Speed _ . You knock back next to him, eyeing Keans and the Bull with a mild interest as you state your news. “I’m moving out.”

“What?” Egbert looks at you, a mix of confusion, happiness, and disappointment. You think his face should be the subject of a study.

“Signed the contract just now. Gonna move my shit over later today.” You focus back on the movie, thinking Sandra was so much better in _Miss Congeniality_. When you contemplate it, you think maybe your favorite Bullock movie is the one with Ryan Reynolds. Any movie with Ryan Reynolds should be someone’s favorite movie, really. Except maybe the Wolverine movie.

“Oh.”

Egbert falls silent. You glance over at him, and realize that he’s looking a little blue. “I’m still gonna hang out over here all the time, you know.”

“Yeah?” The hope in his voice is slightly heart-wrenching. You don’t think a lot of things in this world are heart-wrenching, because generally you consider that to be a pretty pathetic way to feel about something, but Egbert has a special way of making you feel things you’d really prefer not to feel.

“Yeah, of course, bro. I’m not gonna leave you hanging just because I get a new dwelling.”

You think back on the first conversation you had with you Pesterchum, and it makes you smile a little.

Egbert laughs. “You sound like Karkat.”

_ What? _

At the mention of his name, Karkat sticks his face out the door. “Are you talking behind my back?”

“Always,” you answer, because in general that is a true statement, even though Egbert does not always participate because it’s mostly in your head, and when he does, he’s probably never aware of it. But still.

“Karkat, don’t do that, it’s rude,” Egbert says suddenly.

You don’t see him from where you’re seated, but you can imagine a range of things Karkat could be doing to provoke that comment.

To your surprise, Karkat comes over and sits down in the couch between you and Egbert. “What are you saying, then?”

You find his interest surprising. These days he seems to favor ignoring you, to your great letdown. It’s no fun poking at someone who doesn’t lash out.

“Dave’s moving out,” Egbert answers.

Karkat doesn’t reply. Looking at him, you see he’s frowning slightly, though you can’t quite understand why.

“Oh,” Karkat finally responds, intelligently.

He’s being weird. “You’re being weird,” you say.

“Your  _ face _ is weird,” Karkat bites back. His hands curl into fists, and you can’t help but the spark of joy you feel.  _ This is gonna be great. _

“What, you’re gonna miss me, Crabkat? Miss my handsome face and muscles of steel? The coolness, the shades, the sick beats? The deep emotional connection?”

Karkat’s face turns red, and he looks like he’s about to start yelling. “ _ Muscles of steel? _ Oh please, I have bigger muscles than you. That is just pathetic.”

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, because Karkat is right. His muscles  _ are _ bigger. You blink a couple of times, trying to think of something. Karkat doesn’t seem to mind, because that gives him more time to say whatever he’s building up to yell about.

“And let’s not kid ourselves, your light reflectors are deemed cool for absolutely nothing related to you or your person in any way. Your sick beats, of course, will be a loss. Even though I’ve never heard them, and am probably very grateful for that, even if I don’t know it.”

Egbert is looking between them, craning his neck to see around Karkat and at you.

“Wow, Karkat,” you begin, finally having caught yourself. “I never knew I meant so much to you.”

Karkat scoffs.

You get up from the couch. “I should go pick up my keys. I’ll be on the couch tonight, but then I’ll be out of your way.” You hesitate for a moment, but then decide it’s appropriate. “Thanks for letting me stay here, by the way,” you direct at Karkat. “I know you had your doubts, and I just really appreciate the help.”

Karkat looks dumbstruck, which was exactly the sort of stupid expression you were hoping for. You grin, wink at him from behind your shades, and make finger guns.

Karkat looks even dumber struck, and his jaw is hanging slightly open. You find this priceless.

“Later, John,” you say on your way out.

“See you, Dave,” you get from Egbert, who doesn’t even bother to turn around from the screen he’s watching.

 

~∼~

 

You were a little taken by surprise when suddenly Dave moved out. Even more surprisingly, you miss him extremely, even though you were pretty sure you liked your Pesterchum, and maybe Dave not so much. Even though you don’t want him to be, you can’t deny that the whole gratitude + finger guns thing was pretty charming.

Stupid Strider being charming and stupid.

The days that passed in a blur not so long ago, now seem dragged out and slow. It’s broken up by regular pesters, your phone buzzing more often than not, but on a whole, everything is just a little boring right now. It’s like there’s downtime on your life, and you’re just waiting for it to pick back up again. After a couple of weeks though, you guess you’re starting to realize that you’re gonna have to make that happen yourself.

Dave’s only been over once or twice since he moved out, and most of the time while you were not there. John’s been talking about inviting him over for a movie night though, the weekend having been discussed, but then suddenly the dog-like girl, Jade or what’s her name, had invited John to a concert, which he’d immediately agreed to because apparently no one can say no to dog-girl because she’s too cute and stubborn.

Only thing is, now you’d accepted the idea that Dave’s gonna come by, and you sort of want him to, even though Egbert is leaving. Or maybe especially because Egbert is leaving. You don’t really want to conclude with anything, because you have an unsettling sensation in your lower abdominal region that is causing you to believe you might not like what you find out.

“But what should I tell Dave? I already suggested Saturday to him,” John complains to you.

“You could just invite him anyway, watch a movie, and then go out with dog-girl.”

“Jade, you mean.”

“Whatever. I presume there is only one dog-girl, so that must be her.”

“Hmmmmm,” John says, tapping his chin. “Well, I guess she’s  _ the _ dog-girl, but whether she’s the only one –“

“That really isn’t relevant,” you interrupt him with.  _ I will never get anywhere with this conversation if that’s what he’s using his thinking pan on. _

“But should I invite him along? I only have the two tickets,” John further complains.

“I think it might be best to not tell him anything. That way he won’t be disappointed, because he won’t know about it.”

“But what do I do when I leave? He’ll know then, of course.”

“Just have dog-girl –“

“Jade!”

“— _ Jade _ —call you when you’re about to leave, and then tell Dave you have to go meet a friend. Dave is cool, he’ll understand,” you argue, trying to seem unconcerned.

_ Dave will probably think you’re being unusually weird and see right through it, or at least think you’re being a bit of a bad friend towards him. But so be it. _

“Yeah, that could work,” John says happily, going back to watching yet another Nicolas Cage movie.  _ He really needs to find another actor to obsess about. _ You’re not entirely sure which movie this is, but you are 100% sure you don’t give a damn.

You count down the days until Saturday. Somehow your slow week grows even slower. The possible cancellation, courtesy of Jade, made you realize you want to see him. Now that it’s growing closer, you’re not so sure anymore.  _ Something needs to happen. The way things are now…it can’t go on like this. I’ll climb the walls.  _

 

To your massive surprise, it plays out exactly as you’d imagined. Dave comes, he and John start watching a movie, and you join them at some point. Then John gets a call, goes over in the kitchen to take it, then comes back sounding super stressed, saying he has to go meet a friend. Only, John totally overplays it, making it sound like someone died, and he needs to go do CPR. You do an internal facepalm, but all Dave does is raise his eyebrows, and say nothing. He’s staring at John through his shades, and you’re waiting for him to react in some way, and call John on his bluff – but he doesn’t. John looks at him uncertainly, but then eventually just sidles towards the door, exiting backwards while looking at Dave, and then closing the door carefully after himself.

“So…that was weird,” you say eventually, chuckling a little.

“Yeah,” Dave replies. “I should probably leave,” he says and moves to get up.

_ No, that’s not what’s supposed to happen!  _ “Or you could stay and finish the movie,” you suggest a little too fast, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Dave looks at him, expression unreadable. “There’s a really good part coming up,” he responds eventually, and sinks back into the couch.

The two of you sit in silence, watching the movie. You notice none of it, though.

_ I should tell him. About Pesterchum. See how he reacts. I’m deceiving him, the way it is now. _

“Um, Dave?”

Dave turns to you with a ‘hn’, looking at you questioningly.

You bite your lip, wishing you’d thought better through how to approach this before you called for his attention.

He looks at you expectantly, lifting an eyebrow at the prolonged silence.

“Um, never mind,” you settle for, deciding to do some more planning first. These things need to be broken in the right way.

The minutes pass, and you still can’t think of a way to say this. “ _ You know your new best friend/person that you've been flirting with on a daily basis for the past few months? Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” Fucking hell. _

Suddenly, Dave sits up, leaning forwards. “I’ll get going,” he says.

“What?”

He glances over at you. “Movie’s done. Wow, Crabkat, you should probably get some sleep if you’re that far gone.”

You blink at him, dazed. Looking over at the screen, you see that he is correct. The credits are rolling across the screen.

_ Say something. He deserves to know. Don’t let him leave. You put too much effort into making this happen. _ Only problem is, you still don’t know how to tell him.

You realize Dave still hasn’t moved out of his seat. Frowning, you glance over at him, and see that he is looking at you.

You start to open your mouth, planning to say something, but no words come out. Dave is still looking at you, face infuriatingly neutral.

Your heart is beating fast, loud in your ears, louder than every other sound in the room – which is pretty much just your own breath.

Your lips are dry. By habit, you lick them. You notice Dave’s head tilting ever so slightly downwards. You can’t see his irises, so you don’t know where he’s looking, but you have a growing suspicion, though you’re scared to believe it.

Dave still hasn’t moved. You still haven’t spoken. You’re at a stalemate, and very unsure of what to do next. You’re scared that if you move, you’ll break the spell, and Dave will leave. You’re not ready for him to.

Eventually, the silence becomes too unbearable. You have to break it. “Um, Dave?”

“Yes,” Dave responds, voice as neutral as his face.

“Could I…take off your glasses?”

Dave’s eyebrows move slightly upwards, and you become instantly aware that this is a very strange request, but it’s too late to take it back now. You’re just really sick of not being able to tell what he’s feeling, since you can’t see his eyes – it’s really unfair, because he can see yours.

To your surprise, Dave nods ever so slightly. For a moment, you can’t remember what he’s nodding yes to, but it catches up with you fairly quickly. You reach out, and carefully lift them off his face. You feel your fingers brushing his hair, and fight back the urge to do it again.  _ There are more important matters to attend to right now. _ “There is something that I need to tell you,” you begin. You’re sitting with his shades folded up in your right hand, rested in your lap.

“Yeah?” Dave asks.  _ Is he inching closer? _

Dave reaches out, holding his hand in front of you.

_ Oh. He wants his light reflectors. _ You hand them over to him, and he pockets them.

Thrown off your course, you struggle to decide what to say next. You stare at him, growing increasingly aware of how the seconds are ticking away from you, inching closer to an awkward silence. Your mind scrambles for words. You were planning to opt for ‘I’m carcinoGeneticist’, but now, looking straight into Dave’s horribly red eyes, it seems like a really fucking bad idea. “I –“

Dave kisses you.

You make a gurgling noise where you intended words, which your jumbled mind can’t help but think must be very unattractive. You’re frozen in place, staring into Dave’s face, your eyes wide in shock. After about 0.3 seconds you realize that Dave’s eyes are closed, and that you’re very glad they are, so he can’t see what you look like right now.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. Or your face. Or your mouth.

He pulls away before you can recover.

Head tilted slightly downwards, he looks up at you through impossibly long eyelashes. You shouldn’t even be able to see them, considering how blonde his hair is, but for some reason the lashes are a light brown.

You swallow, noticing your throat feels distinctly dry.

“Was that…okay?”

Strider’s hesitation takes you completely by surprise.

“Um…”

Dave shifts away from you, turning away, clearly about to close up.  _ No, wait. Don’t go. _

By instinct, you reach out, your fingers grasping him lightly under his chin, pulling him back towards you. You stare at his questioning face, heart beating too loud in your ears, and your cheeks heating up. You lean in, and place a chaste kiss on his lips. “It was very okay.”

You wish you were braver. Brave enough to kiss him the way you want to kiss him. Brave enough to go for it. Brave enough to bare yourself, to tell him what you want – to tell him how you feel.

But you’re not.

Dave smiles crookedly. “I can work with ‘very okay’.” He leans forward again, this time grasping both sides of your face.

You feel the muscles in your neck tense up, shoulders rising, hands about to come up and push away the person invading your personal space in the most personal way possible, before your brain catches up and realizes that this is  _ Dave Strider _ all up in your intimate sphere.

You sigh, and relax into it.

When Dave pulls away, he smiles ever so slightly at you for a moment, before his face falls back into the neutral territory he’s usually in. “Just so you know, I’m not really looking for something long-term, here.”

Your heart falls.

“Oh. OK.” You guess maybe that was to be expected. Dave is not really the person for commitment. At least not the permanent kind. Which is pretty much the definition of commitment.

“You know, I like you. A lot. And I’d love to see where this goes. It’s just that I already –“

Dave doesn’t get to say whatever he means to say next, because there’s a horribly loud knock at the front door. Dave freezes, looking at the door, then looking at you.

You frown, but get up to answer the door anyway.  _ Who could it be this late? _

You open the door.

 

~∼~

 

You see Karkat jump back as he opens the door, the reaction so immediate that it must be instinctual.

There’s a tall man standing in the doorway.

Somehow, it feels as if the temperature in the room has dropped. Feeling uncertain, but alert, you get up from the couch, and take a few steps towards Karkat, who still hasn’t spoken. You see him mouthing words, but with no sound coming out.

The tall man speaks first. “I needed to see you. I just want to talk.” He takes a step into the room.

Karkat mirrors his movement, seemingly shrinking back.

Unsettled, you take another couple of steps towards him.  _ What the hell is going on? _ “Karkat?”

The man in the doorway now becomes aware of you. “Who are you?” His tone is sharp, and his eyes are piercing, despite the general tired and drawn look on his face. There’s something different about his eyes, and they look off – like something’s wrong, but you just can’t put your finger on what.

They look mean.

You don’t answer him, instead stepping closer to Karkat, who is now looking distinctly terrified.

“Nevermind that,” the man says, taking another step in. “Karkat, please. Will you just hear me out?”

Karkat finds his voice, finally. “H-how did you find me?”

The smallness of his voice scares you, maybe more so than the crazy look on the man in the doorway.

“Tavros told me where you live,” the man answers.

Karkat curses. For some reason, the tiny outburst of anger reassures you – it’s still Karkat, even though he’s clearly frightened out of his wits.

_ What do I do? This guy is huge. I don’t know if I can take him. Should I call the cops? _

For a moment, nobody says or does anything. Karkat and the man look at each other, and you look between them.

“I want you to leave,” Karkat says eventually, sounding frail.

The guy laughs, and it makes shivers run down your spine. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

You watch in awe as Karkat seems to grow in front of you. “No, Gamzee. You don’t get to talk to me like that. I want you to  _ leave _ . I don’t want you here. I will never want you here. Don’t you understand that there’s a reason I never gave you my address? Don’t you remember?”

The smile from his laugh earlier disappears completely. “I told you I was sorry about that. I don’t think it’s very fair of you to bring it up all the time.”

Karkat frowns, and you notice his right hand curling into a fist. “Not fair?  _ Not fair? _ ”

The guy holds up his hands. “Karkat, just listen –“

“No, Gamzee! I won’t listen!  _ You  _ listen!”

_ Oh, I know that look. He’s about to start shouting. _

“You know, I always wanted to keep the personal stuff out of this, because really, that’s just mean – but you give me no choice. If you can’t use your thinking pan for  _ 5 fucking minutes _ –“

_ Wait, ‘thinking pan’? _

“—and all the Faygo, and the sleeping, and THE MOTHERFUCKING CLOWN SHIT –“

Karkat didn’t get to finish, because at that moment, the guy pulled out a horn, and honked it in his face. “You know I don’t like it when people speak bad about my clowning.”

Your face does a weird thing as you realize what was just said.  _ Clowning. Clowns.  _

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE, GAMZEE! I PUT UP WITH THAT SHIT BECAUSE I CARED ABOUT YOU, BUT JEGUS DUCK, THE CLOWNING IS SO FUCKING MESSED UP I FUCKING CAN’T –“

The guy charges at Karkat with a roar, wrapping his hands around his throat. Karkat makes a gurgling noise, his fingers clawing at the tightened hands.

“HEY –“ you start, running towards him, without really knowing what you’re about to do.

You’re 3 feet away when the guy suddenly crumbles, knees hitting the floor. You then spot a white cane behind him, and the girl holding it.

“Gamzee Makara, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You think she sounds like the most badass person ever.

Terezi takes a step forward, placing her foot on clown guy’s shoulder. He seems dazed, and for a moment like he’s about to grab at her – she must sense the movement, because a moment later she smacks him across the cheek. It resounds throughout the room.

“Get the hell out of here, clown Hannibal,” she says, voice cold. She removes her foot, and stands next to him as he slowly gets back on his feet.

The guy stares at Karkat, his curly hair looking more wild than ever. “We’re not done,” he says eventually.

Karkat doesn’t answer. He’s holding around his throat.

“Yeah, you are,” Terezi says.

He slowly turns around, and stalks out the door. Terezi follows him, standing in the doorway, making sure he leaves.

_ Karkat is…he’s… _

He still hasn’t spoken. His eyebrows are furrowed, but his eyes are distant. You look at him, unsure of what to do.

_ He’s… _

You want to ask him. You really do. However, words don’t really seem to be working for you right now. You keep staring at Karkat, waiting for something to happen. It doesn’t.

“Are you alright?” Terezi’s closed the door, and is next to Karkat, trying to make contact with him. She glances over at you. “You okay there, Dave?”

You frown, unsure how to answer. “I –“ You interrupt yourself, shaking your head, and then try again. “I don’t –“ You look over at Karkat.

He’s still not looking at you.

_ I can’t do this right now. _

“I need to leave,” you direct at Terezi.

She looks confused. “What? Right now? We’re kinda in the middle of something here.”

“I’m sorry.” You start towards the door. As you leave, you look back over your shoulder. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

 

~∼~

 

You are currently 30% scared, 70% tired, and 1000% sad.

Dave kissed you. Then told you he didn’t want to be in a relationship.

Gamzee came by. There was some light strangulation.

Then there was Terezi, cleaning up your mess.

When the dust had settled, Gamzee and Dave both were gone.

Now you’re lost. It’s like there’s a blank space inside of you, where feelings and thoughts should be. The only thing you’re sure of, is that you’re sad. You’re not even sure why. You think maybe it’s because you thought Dave was a good enough friend to stick around when things go down, but apparently not.

Speaking to Terezi afterwards, you learn that Dave had seemed very distraught when he left, apologizing profusely. You’re hoping maybe he was just so freaked out by Gamzee, that he needed to leave, and that it had nothing to do with you, specifically. However, there’s this weird, nauseating feeling in your stomach that tells you this may not be the case.

Terezi had stayed with you there for the night, huddled together under a blanket on the couch. You’d asked if she wasn’t staying with Vriska, to which she’d responded that Vriska could wait. Though you were incredibly grateful, you did sort of wish it was Dave there with you instead.

John comes back at some point, stumbling through the door, and disappearing into his room without looking at you.

When morning comes, you’re exhausted. As Terezi gets back up on her legs and proclaims she’s headed off, you decide to go get some actual sleep.

You lie in bed, looking up at the ceiling.

_ It’s dark in here. The way Dave likes it. _

You sniff at your pillow. It’s been weeks since he last slept here, and you already know all the scent is gone, but you still have to try.

Despite your tired state, your body doesn’t seem to want to sleep. You pull out your phone, and open the Pesterchum app. turntechGodhead is online. You decide to text him.

CG: What’s up?

It takes a few moments before he responds.

TG: not much

TG: feeling a little weird right now

You frown, but then type back.

CG: How come?

It takes even longer before he answers.

TG: someone close to me turned out to not be who I thought he was

_ What? _

CG: In what way?

TG: like, there’s this whole side to him that I’ve never seen before, and I had front row seats last night to some real shit going down

TG: and now things don’t really add up anymore

TG: and I don’t know what to do

_ The thing with Gamzee really freaked him out. _

CG: Maybe you should just talk to him about it.

TG: maybe

TG: maybe I already am

You frown again.  _ Wait, what? _

Then it strikes you. You’d told him about Gamzee. About your ex, and all his Juggalo shit. The Juggalo side to Gamzee that certainly made an appearance last night.  _ He’s figured it out. Now what do I do? _

You freak out for a moment, then decide to text the most logical response possible.

CG: What?

TG: …do you know someone named John?

You swallow.  _ Get a grip. You wanted him to know. He deserves to know. If he figured it out himself, that’s even better, isn’t it? _ But still, you’re reluctant to admit it. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because you’re still worried about what’s gonna happen when those two worlds collide.

CG: Yeah; it’s like the most common name ever.

TG: do you know someone named John Egbert?

You sigh. You’ve been sporting a small headache all night, but you can just tell that it’s about to become a massive one. Rubbing at your nose bridge, you try to decide how to best go about this.  _ Honesty, probably _ . Before you can make up your mind, another text ticks in.

TG: because if you do, I think we might have kissed, and that’s really fricking weird, because you’re probably my best friend right now, and I’m really confused by this whole thing

You squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing the heels of your hands into them.

CG: I really didn’t want you to find out like this.

You’re not quite sure how to continue, so you just wait for Dave’s response.

TG: …

TG: you knew

There’s a sinking sensation in your digestive system. You seemingly forget how to breathe for a moment.

TG: how long

You ignore the feeling of dread, and try to do a quick calculation.

CG: About 3 weeks.

TG: I knew you were a dick, but I didn’t know you were a liar

It stings. You wish it didn’t, but it really, truly does.

You watch as turntechGodhead switches from online to offline.

Lying there, curled up around your pillow, you start to cry. It’s small at first, just a sting in your eyes, followed by a slight itch in your nose, but in no time at all, it’s escalated to deep, breath-taking, body-wracking sobs. You don’t even know what exactly you’re crying for. Everything, probably. Gamzee having found you, and the idea of having to find a new apartment. The prospect of filing another police report. The thought of Dave hating you, and having lost your best friend because you couldn’t man up and tell the truth.

Sleep evades you, denying you the comfort of unconsciousness.

 

~∼~

 

You’re reluctant at first, but you eventually decide that you need to see Egbert, because he is your best friend.

You just need to vent. That’s all.

You call Egbert before going over, and enter the front door without knocking. You catch Karkat off guard, standing in the kitchen making a sandwich. He freezes like a deer caught in headlights, a speck of mayo falling from the tube in his hands and onto the surface of the counter, landing with a funny noise. You ignore him completely, and go in John’s room.

 

John is oblivious as always, and you decide to keep Karkat’s name out of it as you explain your troubles. You have some bad blood with Karkat right now, but there’s no reason that should affect his relationship with John.

“OK, so you were doing pretty alright, and then all the stuff happened, and it turned out that he had lied about who he was for a few weeks?” Egbert repeats back to you.

“Yes,” you answer. “For 3 weeks, to be exact.”

“Maybe he was scared you wouldn’t like him if you knew about it?”

You sigh. “Yes, that is very likely why. But that doesn’t make it OK.”

“No, but he probably didn’t do it to be mean.”

“It still hurt,” you respond quietly.

Egbert puffs a breath, and shakes his head. “I’m no good at this. You should talk to Karkat; he’s really good at this relationship stuff.”

You freeze for a moment, but try to look neutral. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I can go get him,” Egbert says, and gets up on his feet, starting towards the door.

“No! No, that’s alright,” you hurry to interject.

Egbert comes back to sit. “Yeah, you’re right, probably shouldn’t disturb him anyway, what with how busy he is.”

“Busy how?” You ask in a slightly disinterested tone.

“I don’t know,” Egbert responds. “He just said he was busy and didn’t have time to talk. He’s been locked up in his room all day.”

You make a non-committed sound.

“Hey, know what we should do?” Egbert asks with a grin.

“No?”

“Dance!” John clicks on a button on his stereo-mounted iPod, and then there’s music.

You shake your head with a smile, amazed as always by his eternal happy-go-lucky attitude towards all things in life. “You’re a gift, you know that?”

“What?” John asks, bumping into the bed with his foot.

“Nevermind,” you say, suppressing your grin.

John stops mid-step, reaching out a hand towards you. “Come on!”

“Thanks, but I’m good,” you say, refusing to take his hand.

“Oh come on, it’s fun, I promise! I think you’ll like it!”

“I have danced before, Egbert. I just don’t enjoy it very much.”

“It gets better the more you do it!”

The look on his face is pure happiness. It’s adorable. “Don’t you mean ‘you get better’?” You try to focus on something other than Egbert’s cuteness.  _ Not as cute as Karkat when he’s blushing. _

“Well, yeah, that too! Please, Dave! Give it a try!”

You still shake your head.

“Come on!” John kicks the bed, making you shift where you’re sitting, leaning against the wall.

You continue shaking your head, and John continues kicking the bed, interrupted by various encouraging comments and pleas.

You hear the front door slam shut.  _ I guess Karkat went out. _ “Hey, wanna make some food? I’m really hungry.”

 

~∼~

 

You needed some fresh air. You also needed some peace and quiet from the sounds of Dave and John having coitus. It was a truly gag-inducing experience, which you’d really rather be without.

You feel like you’re about to cry, which you also feel is about the only thing you do these days.  _ How did everything go so wrong? _ You briefly consider going to Sollux to have some sort of outlet for all your current issues, but you renounce the idea quite quickly. You have a feeling that Sollux is not good for anything these days, really.

You walk around the neighborhood for a good 20 minutes, you estimate. Thoughts keep going back and forth in your head. The memory of the kiss with Dave. Your mental image of holding him like that again. The idea of talking to Dave now.

You play around with the thought of it for a while. What would it be like, to go back to the apartment right now, and give Dave a piece of your mind? To tell him how much he’s hurt you? You’re terrified of it, but at the same time, you’re starting to grow kind of fond to the idea.

Eventually you make up your mind. You’re gonna talk to Dave. You’re gonna face your fears. It’s going down.

You come back to the front door standing ajar.  _ That’s weird. _ You enter the door, and look around at the mess that used to be your living room/kitchen. It’s in a right mess; chairs tilted, a layer of smoke laying over all of it, seemingly coming out of the oven. You cough as you make your way to it, turning it completely off, and opening a window. Standing in the kitchen, you suddenly spot a big pool of blood; it’s covering half of the table, and running off the edges and down onto the floor.

_ Jegus duck, did someone die here? _ You stare at the blood, terrified. Fumbling and almost dropping it, you manage to get your phone out and call John’s number.

It takes a few moments before he picks up.

_ “This is not a good time!” _

“What the hell is going on? Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?”

_ “Whoa, that’s a lot of questions at one time! I can’t really talk right now, Karkat! We’re on our way to the hospital.” _

“Hospital? Goddammit John, Will you tell me what the hell is going on?!” You’re screaming into the phone now, trying really hard not to freak out any further than you already are.

_ “I, uh…I accidentally hurt Dave. He’s not really doing so great.” _

You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. “Where are you headed? I’ll meet you there.”

 

It takes you a while to get to the hospital, but you eventually find it. A nice man at the desk gives you a room number, and you navigate through the maze of a building to find it.

Entering, you stare right at a scene of John holding Dave’s hand, gazing into his eyes.

_ Give me a fucking break. _

John spots you first. “Karkat! You’re here!”

You can’t believe what you’re seeing. There’s tears in John’s eyes.  _ When has that guy ever cried, at anything other than Liv Tyler? _

You feel the rage build up in you. You hate this part of yourself – the uncontrollable, endless rage – but you really can’t help it.

“Dave, are you okay?” You manage to keep your voice controlled for this question.

“Oh, he’s fine!” John answers. “It was just a bump on the head. Doctor said I didn’t really need to bring him in here or anything, but I was really worried, so I’m glad I did anyway.”

You sputter. “Fine? Just a  _ bump on the head _ ? What the hell was up with all the blood, then?”

“Blood? There wasn’t any blood,” John says, sounding confused. “Oh, you mean the ketchup!”

You sputter some more, unable to find words to express the amount of pure anger you’re feeling right now. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

John seems taken aback by your sudden shouting. Glancing at Dave, you see him sitting without his glasses, squinting slightly at you, probably to keep out some of the light. His face is aggravatingly neutral.

You try to stem the flow, but like you already knew in advance, there’s no chance. It washes out in waves. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS? I THOUGHT SOMEONE HAD DIED!”

John opens his mouth, but he doesn’t stand a chance.

“YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE THE HOUSE LIKE THAT, WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHAT HAPPENED! YOU NEARLY STARTED A FIRE! I – I THOUGHT –“

You don’t even know what you’re about to say. Changing tactics, you look over at John. “AND YOU! YOU TOLD ME NO HOMO! HOW IS THIS NO HOMO? WHAT DID YOU THINK, IF YOU’RE FRIENDS FOR LONG ENOUGH FIRST, IT DOESN’T COUNT? WELL GUESS WHAT, MORON, IT DOES! IT FUCKING DOES!”

You turn towards Dave next, who is eyeing you, looking mildly amused. “WILL YOU WIPE THAT SMUG GRIN OFF YOUR FUCKING FACE? IT LOOKS HORRENDOUS! AND HOW DARE YOU GO ON ABOUT PEOPLE BEING DICKS, YOU GODDAMN HYPOCRITE! HOW CAN YOU REJECT SOMEONE, AND THEN MOVE ON RIGHT AHEAD WITH THEIR ROOMMATE? I MEAN, I GET IT, YOU’VE BEEN FRIENDS FOREVER, BUT WHAT THE FUCKING HELL! THAT’S JUST MEAN!” Somehow, the air seems to go out of you. “Like…dick move, dude…” You trail off, not sure how to continue. The intense fury has passed; now there’s just sadness and disappointment left, and that doesn’t make for nearly as impressive scolding.

Dave continues looking at you, stone faced at first, then cracks up and starts laughing. You frown in confusion. “You should probably calm down before you have an aneurism,” Dave says.

John is looking between the two of you. “What?” He asks eventually, seemingly to the room in general. He looks down for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Wait, you thought…?” He suddenly jumps out of his chair, backing away from Dave. “No, we’re not – we didn’t – we’ve never –“ He stutters some more, before pointing a finger at Dave, the insanity in his eyes verging on looking comical. “EW, NO HOMO!”

“Wow, thanks, bro,” Dave says in return, stone faced again.

“Oh,” you say, a little put off. “Glad that’s settled, then.” You have no idea what to say next, so you say nothing, standing in awkward silence.

A woman in a white coat walks in the door. “All scans are clear, Mr. Strider! You should be good to go. Just leave the gown on the bed.”

“Thanks,” Dave responds, and the woman turns and starts back out, smiling at you as she passes you by.

John looks between you and Dave once more, then runs out after the doctor. “Um, excuse me! Could I just ask you about a rash? If you could just look at it real quick –“

You choose to ignore whatever else he says, because really, that’s just more info than you need to have about your friend.

Glancing back towards Dave, you see him start to pull off the hospital gown. You catch a quick glimpse of his pale, naked abdomen, before your stunned mind remember your manners, and you cover your eyes. You sort of regret peeping, but not really, because apparently, Dave looks really good. Like, you’ve seen him before, but you were a little busy being really fucking angry at him for squatting on your bed to pay any attention. Also, it was in the middle of the night, and really dark.

As you peek between your fingers, you see that Dave is not even looking at you, apparently uncaring about being half-naked in front of you.  _ Damn, he looks good in only jeans. _

_ No. Bad Karkat. Don’t think about that. That is improper, and rude. _

You blush a little, and turn even further away, just to make sure you don’t accidentally infringe on his privacy again, even though he doesn’t seem to mind.

Standing there with your eyes closed, you think back on all the things you’d thought to yourself when you were out walking; everything you wanted to bring up with Dave – all the things you wanted him to know, and answer for.

Feeling very nervous, it takes you a while to gather up enough courage. You’ve been postponing this for weeks, after all.  _ Well, feline’s out of the soft container now, that’s for sure. _

“Um, Dave? We need to talk.” You turn to face Dave, deeming it to have passed an appropriate amount of time for him to have gotten dressed.

You jump back, as you find Dave standing extremely close.

“What do you wanna talk about?” Dave asks, expressing absolutely nothing with his face. He’s still not wearing a shirt.

You hark and spit, feeling the flush creep all the way up to your ears, and watch as Dave goes back to the bed to find his shirt and pull it over his head. “About what happened,” you respond eventually.

Dave doesn’t turn back around, but after a moment, his shoulders appear to sag. “Fine, talk, then.” He doesn’t sound very inclined to talk, though.

You take a deep breath, then start explaining. “I just wanted you to know that there was a reason I didn’t tell you right away. I mean, I wanted to. I really did. But I was just so shocked at first. I mean, what would you do, if you found out that your best friend was also your worst enemy? Kinda. Not really. But sorta. You know what I mean. I just…didn’t know what to do.” You look down to the floor, not really wanting to see Dave’s piercing eyes. He still hasn’t put his shades back on. You think that surely the light must be hurting him, and wonder why he hasn’t placed them back on, yet. Shaking your head to dispel the thought, you go back to what you were initially saying, and choose to be completely honest. “Really, I was scared of what you’d think of me. You didn’t seem to like me that much to begin with.”

Dave doesn’t answer, and you don’t look up to see how he’s reacting. You’re 99% sure it’s just gonna be a blank face with cold eyes, anyway.

“I knew what I was doing was wrong,” you continue. “I was being a coward, too scared to be honest. But I’m being honest now,” you finish lamely.

After a few moments of silence, you look up at Dave. He’s frowning, seeming a little confused. He looks a little angry. You swallow the lump in your throat, and wait for Dave to respond.

“That’s a really poor excuse. You know that, right?”

You nod carefully. You are, indeed, aware of this.

“What stings the most, is that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. That you didn’t think I’d be reasonable.”

You hang your head in shame, knowing he’s right. Licking your lips, you decide to continue with the complete honesty. “You’ve gotta admit that you didn’t exactly make it easy for me, though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, with the way you treated me.” You look up at Dave again, defiance in your eyes. 

Dave’s eyebrows go up. “Are you really trying to shift the blame for this over at me?”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just want you to see that maybe you’re not completely innocent, either. You certainly didn’t appear to be my biggest fan.” You hesitate, but only briefly.  _ Honest it is. Go colossal or go back to your dwelling. _ “Actually, you were sort of a dick, most of the time. It kind of felt like being bullied.”

Dave almost seems to jerk back, but a fraction of a second later his face is so relaxed, you decide that you must have imagined it. “I am not a bully. I would never do that.”

You’re fired up now, though. “Did you even bother to ask? If maybe that’s how it felt?”

“I’ll ask now, then. Did it really feel like I bullied you?”

You pause briefly, because you know that you’re on thin ice now. You didn’t feel like Dave bullied you. You sort of enjoyed the banter and the wrestling matches. “I don’t know. Maybe… It hurt,” you answer finally. “You were so different from the guy I chatted with. It was like two different people.”

“Yeah, guess what, I act differently with different people. Sue me,” Dave responds. His voice is cold.

You’re about to start apologizing, because you know you need to backtrack now. This went horribly wrong. Unfortunately, Dave beats you to it. 

“You know what? You can just take that bullshit, and shove it up your ass, because you’re no better yourself. When did you  _ ever _ treat me like the guy you chatted with? You hated me from the first moment. So fuck you, Karkat. Fuck all of this.” Dave grabs his hoodie, and walks out the door, leaving you stunned, alone with all your regret. 

 

~∼~

 

You regret what you said. You went too far, because that was simply not true. You’re a coolkid, and coolkids don’t lie – not about important stuff.

Karkat had his moments. He had moments where that sweet, caring guy shone through.

You have so many regrets right now. 

 

~∼~

 

You’re broken. You’re sad and regretful, and wish you could do this entire thing over again, and just be real with Dave from the beginning. Maybe this would have been alright if you’d just been nice to him from the beginning, and not a bitch towards him because you were jealous of him and John’s relationship.

However, you’ve tried telling him the truth. You’ve apologized for lying to him. There’s no doubt about it, Dave simply just doesn’t want to talk to you – and that hurts like hell.

Your phone pings. You pick it up to check, curious about who it could be.  _ Not Dave, that’s for sure. _

It’s a text from someone called tentacleTherapist.  _ Never heard of. _ Opening the app, you read the text.

TT: Hello. I am Rose, a friend of Dave [turntechGodhead]. I am also a hobby therapist.

CG: Greetings, Rose. I figured as much from your name.

TT: Ah, yes, that is a valid point.

You are very unsure of what this person wants. You wait in patience for her to write more.

TT: You seem like an intelligent person. I would like to see you have a continued influence on Dave, as he seems to be a little lost. If I had to make a hypothesis, I’d say he’s having a tough time starting college, feeling a little overwhelmed with all the changes and the new challenges.

TT: It is my proposition that you message Dave, and attempt to speak reason with him. I’ve understood that you’ve already attempted this, but I believe he’ll be more perceptible to adult discussions now, than he was earlier. At least, I think it might be worth a shot. I have a feeling you agree with me that it’s at least worth the effort.

It takes you a long time to read through her entire message, and to take it all in. Feeling reluctant at first, you finally begin to realize that you really, really want to fix this, and that she’s right. It would be outright unintelligent of you to give up now, without trying at least another time – perhaps even several more times. 

CG: Thank you for your insight. I’ll give it a shot.

TT: You’re welcome. I wish you the best of luck.

You tap out of her window, and over to the chatlog with turntechGodhead.

CG: Hey. I would like to tell you something, and I just need you to listen. I’ve had some shit happen lately. My crazy Juggalo ex showed up unannounced a couple of days ago, ruining my kinda-date.

CG: I really wish my date would be willing to forgive me for not being completely honest, and maybe do a retry of that date.

You’re a little unsure of how much you should elaborate, and how much detail you should go into in this attempt at nearing an apology.

You stare nervously at the screen for the next half minute, until you realize with a sinking sensation that Dave is not replying to your message, since he normally does so within a few seconds. He is usually not far from his mobile device, and pays quite a lot of attention to it. Perhaps negatively so, but that’s really none of your business.

You put your head down on your pillow, and fight the urge to cry.  _ At least I tried. _

Suddenly your phone pings. Hands shaking a little bit, you unlock the screen and read the response.

TG: you shouldn’t worry

Your phone vibrates yet again.

TG: I have a feeling that your date will be more forgiving than you think

You smile like an idiot.

 

~∼~

 

You leave straight away, and go knocking on their door.

John opens with a hi.

You push past him. “I’m here to see Karkat.”

“Oh, okay,” John responds meekly, above average confused.

Karkat comes out of his room in a flurry, standing in the doorway looking at you, seeming nervous and expectant.

You lick your lips nervously. “Should we go in your room?”

Karkat nods, and steps aside to hold the door open for you.

As you enter his room, you hear John speak up, still by the front door. “Wait, what?”

In Karkat’s room, standing in front of the bed – the only real piece of furniture in here except for the nightstand – you remain silent. You’ve got things to say, but you’re not quite sure how to say it.

Karkat is walking around you, picking up pieces of clothing, rambling. “I’m sorry about the mess; I haven’t cleaned in here in forever. Hopefully it’s not too bad. I’m just gonna pick up a couple of things. Wait a minute, and I’ll have gotten the worst of it. Do you want anything to drink, by the way? A coke? Water? …Faygo?” He finally stops darting around, and stands in front of you as he awaits your response.

You shake your head. You stare at him, mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to think of something, and Karkat waits patiently, though nervously, for you to talk. You lick your lips again, trying to find your words. Eventually you have to admit defeat. “I don’t know what to say.” You sit down heavily.

Karkat sighs, and the air seems to go out of him. He sits down next to you on the bed. “Me neither.”

You sit in silence for a while. At least now, you don’t feel the overwhelming pressure to think of something to say. Somehow, the silence is pretty okay.

Karkat speaks first. “We really messed this up, didn’t we?”

You can’t help but bark a laugh. “Yeah, sure did. Just two dudes, doing stuff they don’t know.”

“I really wish I had just been honest with you, you know?”

“Yeah, me too,” you respond. It takes you half a second to realize your mistake. “Not about you; sorry, that sounded really rude. About me. I wish I’d been honest with you. Also, I wish I hadn’t been that mean to you when we met. I don’t wanna make excuses, but I was in a really tough spot at that time.”

“I know,” Karkat says with a small smile. “You told me.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. I guess I kinda did.”

Karkat looks out at the room in general, not seeming to focus at anything in particular. “People should stop hiding the good parts of themselves, you know? We keep them to ourselves, to preserve them and make them exclusive to the people we care about. But I think that’s stupid. The world doesn’t need exclusivity; love and care shouldn’t be a rarity. The warmth and care that we shared over PesterChum – what if we could do that in real life, too? How much better wouldn’t we get along? Not just you and me, but everyone in general, if we just dared to show love and affection, instead of hiding it away to make it ‘unique’ and ‘special’.”

You look at him, raising your eyebrows. “Wow, that was some pretty deep stuff.”

Karkat flushes a light pink, and looks away. “I don’t know. It’s just something that’s been stuck on my mind for a while.”

You nod, agreeing, but rub at your temple. “All this thinking and analyzing is giving me a headache. Think I could have a glass of water?” You know that your headache is stemming from a lot of other things as well, but you don’t really feel like getting into that right now.

Karkat goes to get it, and you hear John in the living room asking various questions. Karkat returns to the room a minute later, throwing a short response over his shoulder. “Not now, Egbert.”

He hands you the glass, then stands still for a moment in front of you, looking at your tired, worn out form. You didn’t get much sleep after the whole Juggalo thing, and you suspect it’s showing.

Suddenly Karkat turns around, and starts turning off the lights. He turns off all of them, except the small lamp on his nightstand. He sits down on the bed, turned towards you, one foot curled up between the two of you. He takes the glass from where it’s resting on your hand, and puts it down next to the lamp. “Know what? I think we should just start over,” he says.

You stare at him in wonder as he carefully grabs your shades and takes them off, and you, stunned and amused, let him.

He looks into your eyes. You look back, a little unsure about what’s about to happen.

Then Karkat reaches out his hand. “Hi, I’m Karkat. Nice to meet you.”

You blink, feeling moved, for some reason. You catch yourself, and shake his hand with a lopsided grin. “Hi, I’m Dave, and I think that’s a really stupid name.” You just couldn’t help yourself.

Karkat’s face turns red, and you can tell that he’s about to pounce you, so you finish what you were saying. “But I kinda like it.” You then pull him close by the clasped hand, put the other in his hair, pulling on it slightly, tilting Karkat’s head, and kiss him softly.

It is so worth it for the stunned look on his face. It disappears quickly, though, so you decide that making Karkat do funny faces is going to be your next pastime.

The two of you end up falling asleep on Karkat’s bed. Your arms are wrapped loosely around him, his face buried into your shoulder, and though the position isn’t the most comfortable, it’s the best sleep you’ve had in ages. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic as Homestuck was in its last segment, namely in March-April 2016. I wrote the first 6k, had no idea where to take it next, and then left it sitting on my hard drive for a good year. Talking to a friend over summer, I started thinking about it again, and when I went back and read it, the continuation seemed so obvious! Of course that was what had to happen next! I'd already set it up and everything, I just somehow wasn't aware of it, myself. I completed the last 11k during Camp NaNoWriMo for July, and ended up being pretty happy with the end result. It's my sincere hope that you liked it as well.
> 
> Many thanks to the amazing [obsessionandstuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessionandstuff), who has done it again! Taking the time in her hectic schedule, the master of beta-reading and editing has combed through this in no more than a day (though it was surely an intense one).
> 
> Also many thanks to my friend [The_Evil_Critic_From_Hell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Evil_Critic_From_Hell) who helped me untangle the knots of the final 3k of this fic, as well as to [Lionande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionande) for cheering me on throughout the entire process!
> 
> All three of you have put so much time and effort into helping me with this project, even though none of you are actually into Homestuck. I think that's pretty amazing of you, and I hope you know how grateful I am. <3
> 
> Lots of love to [Marbaden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marbaden) as well for giving this a beta read! Knowing Homestuck, your insight was invaluable! ^w^


End file.
